Indigo
by Little-Miss-Stark
Summary: Clint goes MIA and the last thing he says doesn't make sense to anyone. Or does it?


_Prompt: Clint goes MIA on a mission and the last thing anyone hears him say doesn't make sense. Later, they find out that he's in a relationship with Coulson, and this word is the safeword for occasional sexytimes. _

**_A/N: This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, it was kinda a little bit darker and stuff. Let me know what you think!_**

* * *

"Sorry guys, don't think I can make it." Clint's voice is rough through the radio speaker. Natasha swears in Russian.

"Clint," Steve says, "We're coming in to get you."

"Don't," Clint's tone becomes stern, "There's no way you'll get here in time."

A chorus of ill-temper and dissent meets his ears.

"'Tasha, do me a favor?" Clint's voice has gone small now, as if he's a little embarrassed.

"Da?" She asks, kneeling in front of the radio mic.

"Tell Phil….tell him…'indigo'." And then the radio cuts out.

Natasha lets out a stream of swear-words. Steve grips the wooden railing until is splinters. There are little sparks of lightening dancing over Thor's hands. Tony's face is unreadable behind the helmet. Bruce looks like his control is wavering.

"What the hell was that about?" Tony asks, "If he was gonna go all dramatic, he could have a least said he loved him."

Natasha stood, wiping her hands on her thighs. "Coulson knows that." She said simply, "and I have no more idea than you." She shrugged.

They didn't have time to ponder on what Indigo meant after that. There was a battle to fight, and after that there was cleanup. Finally, they stumbled back to S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ, to find Coulson waiting for them. He goes straight to Natasha and the two have a hushed conversation. The other Avengers try not to look like they're listening. When Natasha says, "Indigo", Coulson looks down and blushes, then nods and leaves them.

"Did you find out?" Tony pokes Natasha in the ribs.

She shakes her head, already half-way out the door of medical. A medic tries to shoo her back in, but she snaps at him and he cowers, letting her pass.

They wait three days while SHIELD clean-up and rescue teams scour the area where Clint disappeared. For a while, it looks like hope is lost. Natasha vanishes, Tony shuts himself away in the lab and doesn't eat, sleep or speak, Bruce consigns himself to the rebuilt cage, just in case, Thor barely speaks and Steve is run ragged trying to see everyone through their grief, while grieving himself. But Coulson. Coulson doesn't even come to work. Rumor has it that Fury tried to contact him, but was told he could "go fuck yourself, Sir." No-one says anything to or about him.

At the end of the third day, it looks like everything is over. None of them teams have found Clint in the wreckage, and everyone is finally losing hope. But then a call comes through,

"We've found him. Not sure if he's alive…"  
The line static's out, and Coulson gets to his feet. Natasha follows him, heading to the doors of the comms room. Tony gets in their way, blocking their exit.

"Na-uh." He tells them, "We're in this together."

The other Avengers are behind them.

Coulson nods his thanks silently. They file past him.

"Sorry sir." Steve mutters.

The site is in a shambles, things everywhere, the remains of several collapsed buildings littered around like a child's toys. The rescue team is busily working on one section, almost directly in the centre of the destruction. The team stands on the sidelines, everyone feeling quietly useless.

"That's it." Tony says after less than a minute, "I done with this bullshit." His helmet snapped shut and he took off towards the rescue teams.

"I agree!" Thor follows him.

Steve shrugs and follows them both.

Bruce looks torn not sure whether to stay with Coulson and Natasha or to go help his team.

"Go, doctor." Coulson finally tells him, "Help your team."

Banner nods in thanks, closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the Hulk.

Natasha and Coulson wait together, both trying not to give up hope yet. Both of them know that finding Clint and removing him from the destruction is only one part of the process. Will he even be alive? Can he be 'fixed'? Neither of them knows if their friend will make it.

After whet seems like hours, but Natasha is perfectly aware is only minutes, the team returns to them. At first, neither Natasha nor Coulson can see Clint, but then they notice that the Hulk is carrying something. No someone who is wearing the remains of a battered purple and black uniform, one hand still clutched around a bow. Clint!

Three hours later, Coulson is pacing in front of the doors to medical. He and the Avengers have been barred from medical until Clint is conscious. The other Avengers are sitting around, in various states of unrest.

Nick Fury arrives.

"Alright!" He booms, "Everyone except Agent Coulson, I want you out of here before I reach three."  
He didn't even need to count, everyone leaving the room, Steve shooting Coulson a concerned and apologetic look as he went. Fury sat down next to Phil, putting a large hand on his shoulder.

"How're you holding up, Agent?" He asked gruffly. For a moment, Phil didn't trust himself to reply, but then he said softly.

"I'm not the one you should be worrying about Sir." His voice was stronger than he'd thought it would be, all things considered.

"Don't be stupid." Fury retorted, "Barton-Clint is in the best possible hands, I want to know how _you _ are."

"Holding up, Sir. Phil admitted.

"Good to hear." Fury stood, clapping Phil on the shoulder, "Try to get some rest, Agent."

Fury left Phil in the waiting room.

Two hours later, a nurse left Clint's room.

"Agent Coulson?" She asked, "You can see him now."

Phil followed the nurse into Clint's room. The archer was sitting up in bed, looking more annoyed than anything else. He had a black eye, and his left arm was bound to his chest in a sling. He was leaning at an odd angle, and Phil suspected a few of his ribs were at least cracked.

The nurse left them alone, and the first thing Phil did was cross the room to Clint's side and wrap his arms carefully around him, pressing his face against his Partner's neck gently, and mumbling, 'don't ever do that again, you hear me?' over and over again.

"Hey." Clint murmured, "_hey_." He repeated, turning Phil's face up to him, "I'm alright."

Phil pulled up a chair next to Clint's bed, threading his fingers through Clint's, and listened as Clint detailed his injuries. Three cracked ribs, a broken collarbone and severe bruising later, Phil was wincing in sympathy.

They curled up together, somehow fitting onto the single bed together. Exhausted both from pain and the tension of waiting, they fell asleep. Just before Clint drifted off, he murmured to Phil, "I'm sorry… Couldn't take it…had to safword out."

END


End file.
